Spitting Image
by HOUSEaholic
Summary: House's past is revealed as he is forced to come to grips with a mistake he's regretted for 16 years when he gains custody of his son who also harbors a dark secret as well. Updated!
1. You Just Have To Give Love

His tie was crooked.

Angrily he tugged on it, pulling down and forcing it to look straighter. It was still slightly wrinkled and semi-off center but it was better. The sleeves of his suit coat were a little too short, they covered his wrists, but just barely. He tugged at those as well, until they seemed longer and he was satisfied that it looked decent. His leg began to throb slightly and he fumbled in his pocket for his bottle of pills. Dry swallowing a few Vicodin he peered into the mirror, scrutinizing his appearance. He hadn't shaved in a while, his cane wasn't polished, and his hair wasn't cooperating. He could think of a thousand pointless excuses as to why he needed more time to get ready, but he knew what really was holding him back. He didn't want to go. That was it, point blank. He simply didn't want to go.

He contemplated calling Wilson and telling him not to come because he was sick or some other stupid reason. But that would be to much effort, Wilson would insist on coming over and seeing if it was true, House would need to call the Social Worker… Besides, not going wouldn't solve anything. True he wouldn't have to see Sonya's face, feeling guilty for not telling the truth. But what would he gain from that? No, he couldn't turn down the chance to say goodbye before they… buried her. He didn't want to think about that now, he refused to break down before even getting to the damn wake.

Leaving the bathroom, he entered the kitchen and put his hand on the phone, just staring at it for a few seconds. Before he could pick it up and dial the number, a knock on the door sealed his fate. Wilson was here to pick him up. There was no turning back now. Snatching his cane from where he had left it, leaning against the couch. He could hear more impatient knocks coming from outside the door.

"I'm coming!" Opening the door, he stood face to face with Wilson who's hand was raised as he prepared to knock again. "Why didn't us just use your key?"

"Because you had the deadbolt on."

"Oh."

Wilson opened his mouth to say something but House pushed past him, not making eye contact.

"Let's go, I want to get this over with."

Closing his mouth, Wilson obediently turned and followed his sullen friend outside and to the car. Sliding into the driver's seat he glanced sideways at House who was already seated, head tilted upwards and eyes closed. House sighed loudly.

"Are you going to drive, or are we going to sit here all day?"

Putting the car into gear, Wilson backed out and started on the road. Several long minutes of silence passed before he cautiously spoke.

"Are you… are you ready for this?"

Silence.

"The kid's moving in with us Greg, you have to make an attempt to connect with him."

"The kid doesn't want to _connect_ with me James. Would _you_ want anything to do with me if I walked out on your mother when she was pregnant with you?"

Wilson fell silent as he searched for the right words.

"My point exactly." House muttered under his breath. Wilson sighed as he turned on his blinker and slowed the car.

"Greg, I know what happened between you and Sonya and I know that I probably would have done the same thing in that situation."

_You have no idea. _

House wanted to scream at Wilson. He had never told anyone the whole truth behind the breakup and he wasn't about to now so instead he opened his door and exited the car as fast as he could, slamming the door shut behind him.

"You don't have to be perfect, you just have to give love..." Wilson called out after him.

Opening his door as well and pulled his jacket around his neck, he looked through the rain and fog, watching the forlorn outline of his friend limp towards the funeral home. Quietly he repeated what he had yelled into the cold and empty air just seconds before.

"Just love him Greg, just love him… _he's your son."_


	2. She Prefered Roses

The inside of the parlor was plain and simple. Grayish carpet, drab walls with a few pictures, nothing spectacular. A small room containing some empty chairs and the casket stood adjacent to the hall in which they stood. The scent of flowers wafted faintly through the air as the two men slid out of their coats and hung them on the rack that had been placed conveniently by the door.

"Well, it's kind of … nice in here." Wilson commented rather quietly while nervously looking at House.

"Sonya preferred roses," was the reply.

"What?"

"The flowers, all cheap quality. You would think that they could at least get cheap roses instead of that crap." He pointed across the room at the few bouquets that were placed haphazardly round the casket and made a face. "She would have hated those."

Wilson didn't argue or press the issue. He had a strong feeling that it would only add to the increased tension. Awkwardly, they looked around for any sign of a person other than the corpse in the other room.

Suddenly, a woman smelling strongly of perfume emerged from a door to their right. Smiling, she approached them with her hand out.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Sarah Brill, the Social Worker assigned to your case." She shook Wilson's hand warmly and then drew back, a look of hesitation on her face. "Now, which one of you is…"

"Oh." Wilson spoke first. "This is Dr. Gregory House." He gestured towards House as he spoke. "I am Dr. James Wilson, Dr. House's… roomate."

"Oh, I see…" She had an odd look on her face when he finished. House rolled his eyes.

"It's not like that, I'm just living with him to help out. We used to room together in college." That seemed to reassure her slightly and she relaxed a little bit, extending her hand out to House who looked up and shook it briefly before staring at the carpet again. Wilson shifted uncomfortably, he wasn't used to House being this docile.

"You're son is waiting in the other room. You may see him now if you wish." She looked at House who was staring blankly in the direction of the casket. "Or you can pay your respects first…" She trailed of as Wilson nodded.

"We won't be long. He just needs to deal with this first."

She nodded and dropped her voice to a whisper. "Alright, I'll give you some privacy, you can find us in that room over there. She pointed to the door she had emerged from earlier.

"Thank you." She nodded and retreated to the room. Wilson shyed away from House and stepped into the bathroom, allowing him due privacy. He stood with his back to the door, looking into the wall mirror, his head spinning with thoughts. The Social worker's words were still lingering in his numb mind.

"…_you can find us…"_

Us, as in two people…. As in her and House's son. A 15 year old boy whose mother had just died and now was to meet his father the same night as his funeral. Wilson sighed and rubbed his hands through his hair. Was he ready for this? Could he handle living with House and helping to care for a teenager he didn't even know? He knew that now, as of this night, things were never going to be the same again and James Wilson was scared for both himself and his friend.

Next up: Father and Son meet! And why is Wilson helping out anyways?


	3. No Questions?

Jason sighed and looked out the window behind him. The rain had finally stopped and the fog was clearing. Turning around, he slouched in his chair staring at he blank wall. Ms. Brill looked up as he sighed loudly.

"Please be patient Jason."

In response, he sighed again and folded his arms across his chest.

"Jason, I- " she paused as if thinking over her words before speaking. "I know it must be hard for you…"

He didn't listen after the first sentence. Maybe if he just ignored her, he wouldn't have to let his defenses down and admit he was hurting. If it was one thing he hated, it was that feeling of vulnerability. As far as Jason was concerned, even his father wouldn't even be allowed the privilege of learning more than the necessary amount of information.

"Are you even listening, Jason?"

Ms. Brill seemed slightly annoyed at his lack of response. He didn't answer the question, instead choosing to respond with a question of his own.

"May I see my mother again?"

Waiting patiently, he looked directly in her eyes, pleading with her. It was a trick he had picked up over the years. With crystal blue eyes offset by deep chestnut hair, Jason had found that many had trouble saying no when he used his looks properly. Carefully, he crafted a face that was sure to win her over.

"Your father is just in the other room… He's coming to meet you in a second"

She looked dubious and unsure of herself as she spoke and he concentrated on perfecting his look. Not breaking eye contact, he asked again, more quietly and sincere this time for a better effect.

"Please… I just-" He threw in a sigh, except this time he really meant it and the next words out of his mouth were entirely truthful. "I miss her… a lot." Holding back the flood of emotion that began to creep up on him, he refused to let himself cry.

Luckily, she caved before the tears formed. She nodded solemnly and lowered her voice as she broke the resounding silence.

"Make it quick, ok?"

He nodded thankfully and turned just in time to watch the door swing open. Blinking, he stared at the Nike sneakers resting on the carpet, moving his gaze up the shiny polished cane until he was staring at two icy blue eyes that were almost identical in hue to his own.

Father and son regarded each other with faint, but obvious interest for a few moments before Wilson broke the silence.

"Shall we go in then?"

House looked down and nervously fingered his cane before taking a few steps into the room.

"Please, have a seat. Jason has been very anxious, as you have. I am sure this must be a very interesting experience." Ms. Brill bustled about, gathering papers and moving them as she gestured to two seats she had just cleared. "I understand this is not the greatest time, but as my letter indicated, all of Sonya's relatives are deceased. When she passed away, her will was recovered-"

"What about her husband?"

Wilson looked over at House who continued to stare at the floor, his head resting on his cane as if he were trying to think of an answer to one of his cases.

"Sonya and her husband, Richard, filed for divorce. After the divorce was finalized, he left the state." House didn't stir one bit. Wilson looked up at Ms. Brill and half-smiled rather awkwardly.

"Go on, he just… oh, never mind him. Please, continue."

"Where was I? Oh… yes. Sonya's will clearly states that she wishes to leave full custody of Jason to Gregory House. Now, you have indicated an interest in accepting this custody, have you not Mr. House?"

"Who are you?"

Jason had spoken up. He was leaning in a defiant pose against the wall, looking at Wilson. Both men looked up at the sound of the question.

"Jason, you will get to speak with your father in a minute, we have some things I need to go over first."

"No, let him talk." House looked up suddenly.

"Mr. House…"

"This is the part that's supposed to be all mushy and you figure I wont want to deal with the paperwork after the tears start, I get it. And you have legal stuff to take care of, got that too, but I'd like to talk to my son now." Surprised at this small outburst, Ms. Brill took a deep breath and nodded rather stiffly.

"Fine."

"So, you're my father?" It seemed more of a statement than a question. House bounced his cane up and down a few times, looking at his son.

"Yes, I'm your biological father."

"Then who are you?" Jason nodded towards Wilson.

"James Wilson, your fathers friend. I live with him."

"Oh... So you're roommates."

"Yes."

Jason fell silent. House looked mildly amused, and Wilson simply looked bewildered.

"That's all, no other questions?"

Jason shrugged. House and Wilson looked at each other. They had expected a question or comment about the living situation, and definitely something about House's leg. Both stared dumbfounded on the skinny teenager in ripped jeans that was standing in front of them.

Seizing the opportunity, Ms Brill, pulled out another file and laid it out on the table rather forcefully, making it obvious she wanted to get through the paperwork.

House leaned forward, peering at the pile of papers. Looking rather dismayed at the amount of papers there were, he made a face. Wilson sighed and slid in closer to the desk.

"Ok then… where do I begin?"

Jason watched his father intently, taking in every detail. He barely heard the words that were spoken between the three adults as his mind wandered.

…_you'll need a lawyer of course… he's taking this kind of hard…brittle diabetic…_

Crap. He had forgotten that detail. How would his Dad feel about his diabetes? He wondered if it would be a problem. Probably not, he tried to reassure himself. After all, Ms. Brill had said that his father was a doctor. But still…

All of the air deflated from Jason as his insecurity took over. He was no longer excited, but scared that he would be a disappointment or annoyance his dad. Quietly, he made for the door, sneaking of the room and creping towards the open casket.

He wished that he could talk to his mom just one more time, but just being with her before the funeral would have to do.

Next up: More about Jason being diabetic and the reason Wilson is helping.


End file.
